


taste.

by daddysin



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Choking, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, F/M, Knifeplay, Swearing, aren't u glad im back and making ur favs the nastiest lmao aisbduasbd, dark themes, if i miss anything hmu lmao, this was a request so i decided to post it here while I work on my Billy one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 04:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15833472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddysin/pseuds/daddysin
Summary: one bar, a switchblade and a snake in leather.





	taste.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to my Tumblr.

The bar is like any other dive you’ve stepped into in your eighteen years, underage drinking, the heavy smell of smoke and middle-aged men who are clearly there to pray on young unsuspecting girls.

It’s practically your  _“go to”_ , of course, the difference being you’re on the south side and the underage teens tonight seem to be the Serpents gang you see coasting up and down the roads constantly.

Usually, you’d have some friends tag along, but tonight you’re flying solo. By choice.

If your friends knew where you actually were tonight instead of home in bed, you’d have no friends pretty quickly and soon enough you’d be the outcast, more or less than you are currently. So, with your chest puffed and your head held high you weave your way through the patrons to get to the bar.

You could taste the beer the moment you pulled up outside, the golden liquid burning your throat and blurring your vision. God.

You bump shoulders with some Serpents, and while they shout after you, you keep your eyes on the unoccupied stool. You’re not here for confrontation, you’re here to get drunk and possibly wake up on the football field for the sixth time this week.

When you do finally reach the seat you’d been eyeing since you started your walk of shame, you can feel eyes on your back. Your stomach constricts in fear, more fear of whoever it is could or could not be someone you share a class with. You’d rather get yourself into a fight with someone you don’t know than someone you do.

“What  _ **is it**_  with you Northsiders? Have I got to psychically hold a knife to your throat?” 

The voice is deep and slightly rough, possibly from alcohol.

“I’m sorry?” You turn, expecting to see some drunk idiot looming over you, who you could easily tell off with a smug look on your face.

But tonight just is not your night.

Pea. Sweet Pea for a more formal term. The one the guys hate and the girls wet their panties over. You can’t even begin to list the number of times you’d been under the bleachers smoking a blunt and hearing gossip.  _“I heard he’s a freak, cut Lily up and everything!”_ and not to mention, _“He choked out Hanna! She swears she saw the light, had bruises for weeks”_

Course, all rumour. You’d never seen these scars from Lily, and you can’t remember Hanna actually having any bruises worth noting. You guess it’s to score points to say you’ve slept with him and then boost his bad boy rep.

“Fangs, did I stutter? Or are you deliberately being ignorant?” he’s smug as he crosses his arms over his chest.

It only fuels your defiance, scared of a Serpent? Please.

“Listen, unless you’re over here to offer to buy me a drink get the fuck out of my face”

To reiterate the previous statement,  _tonight just is not your night_.

“Oh, I get it. You think because you go to your fancy fucking school” A hard jab to your chest, “Wear this fancy fucking jacket” a sharp tug to the lapel, “You can come down here and throw your weight around? Not here, not ever”

The man Pea had referred to as Fangs tries to pull him away, begging almost that it isn’t worth the fight. To be honest you agree in the sense that you can’t be fucked to fight with some souped-up kid in a leather jacket with probably an iron on patch on the back.

“Nah! Fuck that Fangs, why don’t you take your fancy jacket and you with it out of here before you find yourself tied to a bumper”

The threat, which you assume is empty, does shake you a tiny bit. But not in the way that Pea was probably hoping for, your heart jumps and your thighs clench.

“Look, I just came in here for a drink, everyone on the northside knows me, If I get caught drinking in one of those places my fake ID days are fucking down the drain!” you hope he’ll let it slide, you’re sure Pea carries around more than one for different reasons.

He chuckles, circling to the right side of you, slamming his fist beside your hand on the bar top. “So pretty princess wondered away from home to become the devil for a night. Cute story but you’re not exactly selling it to me, baby. Why don’t you beg me with some tears and I’ll consider it”

“Pea, man come on this is fucking cruel, let her have her few drinks. Let’s play pool” Fangs chimes in, still on the right side of you.

Seems even Fangs is getting a little rubbed the wrong way over this whole ordeal, everyone else seems to be minding their business. Maybe he isn’t just a myth, a legend.

“No, I want to see her cry. Show me just how bad you’re willing to go to get drunk”

Your cheeks burn and for a moment you consider it, but you’re not sure you could throw on fake tears like an actress. So you stand up and push past Pea, you could settle for buying a cheap shitty pack of beer at your local gas station than deal with this fucking bullshit all night for one lousy drink.

If they never wanted you back on the Southside, they fucking succeeded.

* * *

 

You exit the bottle shop, plastic bag full of beer in one hand and a packet of jerky in the other. You hear what you can only be described as a  _Swchikt_  sound. And when you turn you best believe your heart fell out of your ass.

Pea seemed to have taken up residence next to your car, leaning on it, flicking his switchblade constantly.

“Hey, listen I thought we had this settled? Look I’m going to head home now, just I thought I’d buy it here, in cash, where the store clerks don’t know my address or my parents -”

“It’s interesting” his tongue grazes over his teeth, his eyes glance up at you while he grins, “You Northsiders, you complain about us, about how we’re scum and not worthy of stepping foot on your green grass. Yet, here you are, in our stores, buying our beer, fucking our men and women in cheap hotels and then returning back to your perfect families to play happy home”

Pea steps closer, knife flicking out once again, “You think you’re better than us, that somehow you are smarter, put yourselves on a fucking pedestal when in reality you’re the lowest of fucking low. You’re garbage, nothing. You wear fancy clothes and that’s about as much personality as you have”

You gulp, “Pea, I don’t think that ok I- I was trying to seem tough I was worried-”

“Worried about what?” he moves a lock of your hair with just the tip of the switchblade and you can feel your heart speeding up, your panties soaking. “I was going to let my guys beat the shit out of you, contrary to believe I’m a consent type of guy, I like my prey willing”

Pea lets out a peal of laughter that echoes throughout the entire parking lot. It makes you realise how alone you truly are, no one for miles except the clerk inside. It’s midnight and right now there’s one thing stopping you from giving it back twice as hard, and it’s glimmering right next to your cheek.

“I like you, I knew I’d like you. From the moment you stepped into the Whyte Wyrm, I could feel it”

It’s like Pea is silently asking, and while your look may convey something akin to fear, right now you cunt is pulsing in such an uncomfortable way that you may be a mere second away from begging him.

“Pea, I- Will you, can we...fuck?”

You feel so embarrassed that you practically word vomit afterwards. After everything that had transpired before till now, any reasonable person would have pissed themselves. 

Pea only hums, his full height intimidating you now that he is no longer hunched over, “You’ve gathered by now I’m into some weird shit. If you’re asking for this -  _consenting_  to this you have to know..”

You nod simply, you don’t exactly want to blurt that this is the kind of stuff that gets you off in your free time, in fact, you’re sure he can probably already tell that from the mere fact you even asked to begin with.

“Ok, strip”

Pea turns his back on you and makes his way to the hood of your car to sit comfortably. You stand bewildered at the request, you place the plastic bag down carefully on the curb along with your unopened packet of jerky.

“Right here?”

He hisses, brows furrowed, “Walk over here first, fuck sake. Are all you Northsiders this fucking useless?”

The insult hits you in the chest and between the legs at the same time, you make your way cautiously over to Pea. He isn’t even looking at you when you fully approach, it isn’t until you’re stripped down and your thumbs are hooked into your panties that he actually takes any notice.

“Leave those”

You obey wordlessly and wait for further instructions, you hope the next one will be to climb into the warm heating of your car. It’s a brisk night and you don’t exactly feel comfortable being so uncovered in this way, part of that may come from the fact you’re on the Southside.

Any other time this wouldn’t have been a problem, you remember when you had gone to Reggie’s house party and promptly stripped down and jumped from the housetop into the pool.

Pea extends a leg, leather boots scraping against the asphalt and rocks that litter the ground below. To the unbeknownst person, it looks like Pea is asking for you to stadle him when he lightly taps his thigh, eyes still trained on the switchblade flicking in and out at such a fast pace.

So, when you approach and delicately reach for his shoulders to help yourself with that task, it’s all the more surprising when Pea wraps an arm around your waist and spins you, back to his chest. You find yourself straddling just his leg, or his thigh really.

“We’re gonna play a game” is the deep rumble in your ear, a hand wraps around your throat.

Your breath hitches, his grip is anything far from “light and playful” you wouldn’t say Pea has the intention of hurting you but he does want to prove who is the leader, the master if you will in this situation.

He makes a noise in his throat, releasing your throat and using the same hand to get a firm grip of your hair.

“Have a better idea”

You don’t really have time to process everything, it all seems like a blur. The cold blade pressed to your throat as Sweet Pea basically orders you to begin grinding against his torn jeans, he has such a sweet grin as well as he asks this of you. If you met Pea at a party, in a crowded club he looks fairly innocent you wouldn’t tell from longing eye contact that he would have this swimming around in his brain.

That  _this_  is what he thinks about.

The whimpers and moans the escape you echo back, the parking lot is barely lit. The red sign glowing and covering you both in the hue, you wonder if you look like one of those artistic photos you always see, or more like a cheap porno. The thought doesn’t last for long, Pea adjusts himself on the car, into a more comfortable position you’re imagining.

“Pea” your voice is soft, weak.

The brisk breeze hitting your flush skin, the goosebumps arising once again, probably for the fifth time tonight.

“No, no talking. You have your orders, I ask you to fuck my leg that’s what you’ll do. You don’t want to be found like  _this_  do you?” he pressed the blade into your jugular, tightening his arms hold on your shoulders, “pretty little Northsider, found in a parking lot sliced up like a pig hm?”

The moan that leaves your mouth is so embarrassing that your face heats and tears prick in your eyes. Pea seems to be getting off on the words more than you are, his tongue and teeth are attacking both your earlobe, the cartilage and your neck.

“Do you need a little help getting there?”

His grip disappears from your hair and reappears inside your soaked panties, clinging to you like a second set of skin. Your head lulls forward, chin pressing to his knuckles. You can feel the trickle of something down the collum of your throat.

But with Peas fingers on your clit working themselves in a tight circle, his teeth gnawing at the cartilage of your ear. It’s not really what you’re thinking about in this very moment.

You hitch a leg up, pressing your back into his chest, almost like you’re trying to fade into him; become one.

“Come on, cum. That’s all you’re good for right? God, I can only imagine what all your preppy little friends must think. Do you think they’re sitting somewhere with their pretty little heads in their schoolwork, thinking your homesick, hm?”

His fingers press exceptionally hard and you can tell teasing has gone out the window and for now, Pea wants one thing from you.

“And instead, you came into my fucking bar throwing your weight around and now” he laughs, “now you’re letting me play with your clit in a parking lot while you grind yourself against my thigh”

And it’s with those words, with the feeling of the rumble in his chest against your spine and the growl reaching your ears that your hands clutch Pea's arm. Hands clasped tightly as your hips jerk wildly and he all but controls his laughter from seeping out, but you can feel his chest shaking.

Pea lets you go, you barely catch yourself from falling face first into the pavement below.

You hear the same  _Swchikt_ as he puts the knife away, you breathe heavily wiping the drool that had at some point flowed from your mouth onto your chin.

“You’ll know where I will be if you want this again”

He steps around you and heads back to his bike a few feet away. You fall back onto the hood of your car exhausted and more or less trying to find an excuse to come out here tomorrow night.


End file.
